


Laying on the Cold Hard Ground

by MsChievous



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Abuse, Blindness, Gen, Hospitals, I definitely ship Ren and Mishima but you can read it as platonic, Injury, Kamoshida sucks balls, Physical Abuse, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26858896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous
Summary: Whumptober Day 6 - "No More!"Mishima's used to Kamoshida's abuse, but it quickly becomes more than he can take
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949494
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Laying on the Cold Hard Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Had this fic partially written in my google drive for like.... a year and a half. I'm glad I finally got to repurpose it and put it out there! I was originally gonna make it this whole fic but I figure it's good to just get it out there~ Hope you all enjoy!

Mishima leans against the locker, breathing hard. He doesn’t even want to think how many miles he ran today, but based on how parched his throat is, he’s pretty sure its more than 10. Frankly, he’s a little surprised he’s still standing.

Someone clears their throat from the other side of the locker room and every person still in the locker room looks to them with fear. “M-Mishima…” the first-year stutters, “Kamoshida wants you.”

Fear lodges itself deep in his stomach, and he straightens. “I- uh… th-thanks. I’ll…” He trails off, ignoring the relieved looks from his teammates. He knows that if it were one of them going in place of him, he’d be making the same face. It’s an unspoken rule to stay in your lane.

The first-year avoids his gaze, apparently rather interested in his shoes. 

All for the best, he figures.

* * *

He knocks on the PE teacher door. The girl’s tennis instructor slides it open. “Oh, you’re here for Mr. Komashida? Perfect timing, I was just about to leave,” she says with a sunny smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t have too much fun!” She says as she steps around him. He’s not sure whether she was talking with him or Kamoshida but it doesn’t really matter. 

Kamoshida spins his chair around and faces Mishima with a deceptively warm smile on his face. “I hope you’re ready for a little bit of extra training. People like you… well, they need lots of extra help, no skill at all. Honestly, you should be glad I’m even letting you stay on the damn team. Well, at least your face is good for reflecting the ball,” Kamoshda guffaws at his joke, and Mishima does his best to join in. The black eye from the rally still hasn’t gone away.

“Your weakest weakness, believe me you have many, has got to be that endurance of yours. You quickly lose steam, so let's get some exercises going. Burpees first.”

* * *

Kamoshida counts 36 full burpees before Mishima collapses to the ground, legs shaky, and breathing heavily.

“Wow, I’ve met middle schoolers with better stamina than you have,” the volleyball coach scoffs. “Get in bumping position. If I knock you over, it’s not good enough.”

Breath catching in his throat, Mishima managed to scramble to his feet. He lowers his stance into a proper bumping position though his thighs scream in protest and his calves groan against his weight. 

Kamoshida pushes at one shoulder, then the other. Then he pushes with both hands. All of these assaults, he manages to weather. Then, the coach puts more force behind the shove, and Mishima goes down. 

But he doesn’t just go down. The edge of a table catches the back of his head with a sickening crunch, and he falls into unconsciousness.

* * *

He blinks slowly up at the ceiling, willing the tiles to come into focus so he can get out of this godforsaken place. 

There’s a creaking noise by his feet as if someone were leaning back in their chair. “Only four minutes,” Kamoshida murmurs. “Probably no brain damage. Get your ass out of my sight and go to the nurse’s office you sorry excuse for an athlete.”

Mishima licks his lips, working up the strength to rise. It seems he’s not going fast enough, since Kamoshida grabs him by the arm and heaves him upright. The change in altitude makes his head pulse and the world blur, but he manages to stay on his feet once Kamoshida lets go so he takes that as a win. 

He manages to stumble his way blearily to the nurse’s office, though he doesn’t quite remember the walk over. Or sitting down on the bed. Or drinking the cup of water next to him. Huh.

“Mishima-kun?” The nurse asks, though her words sound like they’re coming from underwater, “Can you hear me?” 

He tries nodding, but that only makes his vision go grey so he makes an affirmative noise instead.

“Good. I think you have a concussion, so I called an ambulance for you. I need you to stay up until then, okay?

Mishima tries to say yes, but the world shifts and he’s drowning in an inky black.

* * *

He wakes up again… At least, he thinks he does. Everything looks black and muddled as if the whole world was just one big shadow. Before he has time to worry about it, however, he finds himself falling back unconscious.

* * *

When he blinks back into consciousness, he hears someone else in the room with him. He glances to the side and notices a shadowy form leaning over a beeping machine. The form seems to notice his movement and turns to face him. How can they see so well in the dark?

“Hey there, how are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

Mishima blinks a few times, willing the fuzzy edges around her form to sharpen. Then he squints, but that just obscures his vision. “I- the lights?” He manages. 

The figure turns again, presumably towards the light switch, then looks back. “Too bright? Could be a concussion…” She murmurs.

 _Too bright?_ “N-no. It’s too dark. Can you turn them up?”

The figure freezes, as if unsure.

“It’s too dark?” She asks, stepping a bit closer. “I’m gonna take a look at your eyes, is that okay?”

Panic bubbles in Mishima’s throat. “Wh-what’s wrong with my eyes?” He asks.

“I just need to run a few customary checks after a head injury. Is that okay?”

“Uh, I, uh, sure. Okay.”

Gentle fingers prop his eyelid open and a harsh light flashes in his eye. The figure repeats that process with the other eye and hums. “I’ll be right back. Is there anything I can get you before I leave? My name is Kisa, by the way.”

Mishima blinks again, the panic still building. “Uh, n-no, no I’m fine. Thanks…. Thank you very much.

She’s gone for a little over ten minutes, he estimates. It’s not like he can see the clock and now that he’s more awake, it’s really worrying him. He passes the time planning out what chores he needs to do at home, trying to remember what homework he had due today, and what games he would play when he finally had time.

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. “C-come in!” He calls. 

Another figure, tall and scraggly, steps through the sliding door. “Hello, I’m Dr. Tsukasa. I hear your name is Mishima?” He barely pauses to hear the affirmative before continuing. “We’re having a few concerns regarding the hit your head took, so I’m going to suggest a few scans so we make sure there’s nothing worrisome going on in there. Since we don’t have any records of previous visits from you, we don’t have any parental contacts on file. Assuming you are still a minor.”

Mishima licks his lips nervously. “They’re… they’re on a business trip in Europe. They don’t have international calls or anything in their phone plans, but I can email them. They check that pretty regularly.

He absolutely hates not being able to read the doctor’s expression. He’s not sure if that’s a concerned silence or a pensive silence or an angry silence, he doesn’t know what to say next-

“Well, we’ll send over the relevant information to them. For now, We’re gonna make sure everything is ok with a quick scan. Alright?”

Mishima nods, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

* * *

The news turns out to be about as bad as he feared. A small clot in the back of his head apparently caused it. The doctors used some big words that hurt his head even more, so they dumb it down for him. He's blind. Well, mostly. Probably for life. He takes it…. He takes it better than he thought he would. Perhaps the consequences haven't quite hit him yet, but it just seems like another roadblock he has to overcome

Lucky him.

He's been in the hospital for a few days now and established some sort of routine. One of the nurses managed to scrounge up an old walkman that still worked and borrowed several books on tape from the local library so he listens to that until he's brought in for brain scans.

It’s one of those days that the nurse is wheeling him to his next scan when he hears a familiar voice. “Oh my god, Mishima?”

His head whips to the side and he sees a female figure with poofy pigtails on either side of her head. “O-oh, hello Takamaki-”

“Oh my god, everyone was so worried about you! You didn’t show up to class or anything for days! What happened? Why are you in the hospital? Did something happen to your legs?”

Mishima’s mouth goes momentarily dry. “I hit my head pretty hard. I-I have trouble seeing well now.” He does his best to ignore the sympathetic noise Takamaki makes. “How about you. Are you okay? Why are you here?”

Takamaki pauses, and her figure shifts, as if looking off to the side. “I…” There’s a hint of nervousness in her voice. “I guess you wouldn’t know. Shiho… well… She jumped from the roof. Of school.”

Something breaks, down in his chest. It feels like when the realization hit that he might never regain his sight, fear and anger swirling around deep beneath the chest he locks his emotions in. “...oh,” he manages.

“Why don’t I give you three a little privacy,” the nurse murmurs, “I’ll be to your right if you need me.”

Mishima barely has time to think, _Three?_ before Takamaki is speaking again. “Y-yeah, we were just going to pop in and see… and see how she’s doing. If she wakes up…”

Then another figure moves into his view: taller, male, and with wild curly hair. “Ann,” a familiar and scary voice says, “Go see Shiho, I’ll stay with him.” The figure - now that he knows - he sees is quite obviously Amamiya. Panic jumps in his throat at the thought of being alone with the dangerous transfer student, but Takamaki just nods. “Y-yeah, thanks.”

There’s silence as she turns and walks away. Then Amamiya speaks up. “You didn’t fall by yourself, did you?”

Mishima sighs. “Of course not.”

There’s another beat of silence. Amamiya rubs the back of his head. “Are you going back home soon at least?” He asks. There’s a hint of unease in his voice as he speaks.

“No. My parents are out of the country for work for another month or two. So I’m staying here.” 

Amamiya is quiet. Again. Mishima wishes he could just see the delinquent’s expression so he could know what was going on in that damn head of his. “I live in a social worker’s place. I could ask him to take you in too. If you wanted, that is. I doubt it’s much fun staying in a hospital.”

“What?” 

“I mean, if you’d like. I don’t mean to assume… Just a place to crash until they get back.”

Mishima is taken aback for a long moment. “I- I don’t know if I’m allowed- the hospital I think they can only release me to my parents?” He’s not sure if that’s the case, but he hopes it is. The last thing he wants right now is to be anywhere near this guy.

“I’ll ask,” Amamiya says, striding out of Mishima’s field of vision. He tries desperately to stay locked on, but his figure fades into the fuzzy background. Then he hopes for the nurse to return and take him away.

She does return, with Amamiya in tow, however. “Yes, this is something for us to discuss with doctors,” she says, “but we would be able to release a minor into the care of a social worker, granted they were willing.”

Mishima’s heart sinks in his chest. Then his only hope rides on the social worker not wanting to take him in, and knowing the type, they probably have a bleeding heart for strays.

“I’ll get him on the phone and let you all know.” The delinquent responds.

* * *

Sojiro is a seemingly nice man who smelled of coffee and spices. He speaks quietly but with authority and holds a strangely comforting aura that puts Mishima slightly more at ease. 

They work to figure out when Mishima can leave the hospital (a week), how soon he could go back to school (another month), and what accommodations would have to be made (quite a few). Sojiro is a patient man, waiting for his turn to speak and allowing Mishima to speak in turn. His anxiety lessens slightly but doesn’t quite dissipate… not yet.

The week passes quickly, and he finds himself following the increasingly familiar forms of Sojiro and Amamiya. They glance back often to make sure he’s still there and he holds back a hiss of frustration at the babying.

“Get up front,” Sojiro holds the passenger door open and he manages to slide in. He’s vaguely impressed with his own ability to function with such low visibility. He doesn’t even need to look around for the seatbelt as he snaps it neatly into the buckle and waits for the rest of them to follow suit.

* * *

He doesn’t stay at Sojiro’s house. Instead, he stays in the attic over the cafe with Amamiya. That fact sets his heart hammering in overdrive, but Sojiro doesn’t seem concerned. 

The delinquent leads him up a flight of stairs and into the spacious area. It’s… not as bad as he expected. It’s clean (from what he can tell) and feels well-insulated and free of dust and grime. 

“Your bed is over here,” he says in that soft voice of his. 

Through the haze, Mishima can see the rough outline of what does appear to be a bed tucked in the far corner. “And where would you sleep?”

“O-oh, there’s a second bed over there.” 

Mishima pauses. “Amamiya with all due respect I’m not totally blind. I can see there’s only one bed here.”

A cat _mrrp_ s in the silence and Amamiya hisses, “Shut _up_ , Morgana.” Then, louder, he responds, “I mean yeah but the couch is pretty comfortable. Plus it's not for too long so I don’t really mind.”

It’s unexpected, perhaps to throw him off… for what? Mishima was already easy prey for a wild guy who got off on hurting others, so why doesn’t he do anything? Why is he standing off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck? It’s confusing and weird, but not entirely unwelcome. He _may_ have been a bit harsh on Amamiya before. Maybe… just maybe he wasn’t as bad as the rumors claimed.


End file.
